


Let Us Welcome You Home

by itakethewords (BluntBetty)



Series: Katsuki Realtors [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Clumsy Yuuri, Drinking, Implied Anal Sex, Implied Oral Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mysterious Buyer Victor Nikiforov, Okaeri | yoihomezine, Realtor Katsuki Yuuri, Semi-casual sex, Strangers to Lovers, The Key Lime Pie Fiasco, real estate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluntBetty/pseuds/itakethewords
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki, lead realtor for Katsuki Realtors, can’t stop embarrassing himself in front of his client. From the key lime pie fiasco to staring at his ass, he knows he’s in trouble when he meets the mysterious VN and realizes he is fucked.





	Let Us Welcome You Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was my piece for the Okaeri Home Zine located in the Love Hotel edition! As with a lot of my things lately, I want to expand on this story more, but I'll leave you guys to tell me if I should?
> 
> Please enjoy and thanks to all who supported Okaeri!

Six weeks. 

Yuuri has been looking for the perfect home for six weeks. His client had  _ specific _ tastes and high expectations. It had been eight weeks of back and forth emails daily, near hourly. Lists of wants and must-haves. The things that made the perfect home for his client would be considered high maintenance by any other person and was longer than most children’s holiday wish lists. 

But Yuuri was known for finding what his clients want. It was Katsuki Realtors claim to fame. The livelihood that not only Yuuri, but his parents and even Mari as a designer, depended on. If the Katsuki Realtors couldn’t find you want you wanted, you were never going to find it.

Currently, Yuuri walked the floor plan of a recently listed home. Boasting three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, including one en suite, a fully equipped kitchen of modern and sleek appliances, a dedicated laundry, a finished basement, an office space, a two car garage, and a south-facing front door, this home checked almost everything off his client’s list. Almost

Sighing, Yuuri pulled out his phone and read over the email with the final list of wants.

 

_ Mr Katsuki, _

_ Below you will find my final list of amenities I will need in my new home. I have made some adjustments and concessions given the area’s average home, but this is where I draw the line. I look forward to your next video tour. _

_ Please do rest assured I am aware of the great deal of work I have put on your shoulders. Price is little object, though working your well-known magic as a realtor is appreciated. Your compensation, commission, and bonus will be worth the efforts. _

_ VN _

_ Minimum three bedrooms of at least 18 feet by 18 feet for the master and 16 feet by 16 feet for the rest; a dedicated office space of at least 12 feet by 12 feet, optional library space preferred but not a deal breaker; en suite bathroom for master bedroom, at least one full bathroom for every two bedrooms thereafter, powder room/half bath acceptable in addition; full kitchen (no galley style); modern appliances in kitchen and laundry provided; laundry space dedicated;  _

_ Fully finished basement; a pool of at least 25-30 yards in length; dog friendly neighborhood; front of home facing south cardinal direction; wide doorways; open concept; hardwood floors in common areas; new carpet in bedrooms; closed backyard that consists of at least one acre of land already well-kept and cleared for use, preferably lawn and trees; appropriately sized front yard of lawn; front gate and fence strongly preferred; strong internet and cell phone service known in neighborhood; a two car garage; must be within one hour of downtown Detroit.  _

_ Must have little to no crime reported; must **not** have front door facing east; bathrooms with showers only; unfinished basement in any capacity; a wild backyard; neighbors who hate dogs; be more than an hour average from downtown. _

 

Yes, this house had almost everything. It lacked wide doorways except the front and back doors but the doorways for the rest of the house featured soft arching corners instead of the traditional rectangle for some personality and the bedrooms did not feature carpet but at least the latter was fixable before move in. He usually sent most who wanted design changes to Mari with her Designs by Katsuki interior design firm, knowing they would be taken care of well. The neighborhood featured mostly upper middle class families and childless younger newlyweds; most had dogs, cats, or were petless but didn’t show a preference against dogs. There was even a community park and dog walk in the center of the subdivision. The house itself was less than three years old and had recently added a pool to the backyard the summer before the last owners moved.

Checking each room over, looking for every detail and flaw that could be pointed out and looking for how he could approach this latest home in his video tour to VN, Yuuri started from square one, booting up the camera on his phone and beginning his recording.

“Good day, VN. Yuuri Katsuki here again with another home. This one just recently came on the market this week with the previous owners moving due to work obligations. This is a newer build at just under three years old and features…”

 

* * *

 

 

It was late, after eight and he hadn’t heard back from VN yet. He had a strong feeling the man was frustrated with his work--he knew he was. Today had been the sixteenth house he’d given a video tour of and while he knew it in his bones that this was  _ the _ house, he wasn’t for sure with the man he’d never met in person or spoken with in any voice communications. Emails aplenty, but that had been the extent. With a job that depended partly on facial expressions, tone of voice, and those between the lines hedging conversations, Yuuri was going on pure instinct and experience and it was equally nerve wracking and exhilarating. To quell the urge to throw his hands in the air, he went to the local greasy spoon for his favorite stress reliever.

The Rink was just that, an old, remodeled ice rink turned diner about thirty years before. The kitchen sprawled to the center of the rink, walls about twenty feet away and lined with booths. It had an old fashion counter with swivel chairs that gave a front row to the orders being made. The building itself wasn’t large, the population tiny when it was built in the 1960s, but it fit a decent number of seats without losing elbow room. Yuuri mostly loved it because it had what he considered the best key lime pie in the state.

There were only a handful of diners eating when he arrived. A family of four, two teens, and man who looked to be finishing a cup of coffee while reading the paper. The man didn’t notice his presence, but Yuuri certainly took a moment to let his eyes appreciate the fine jawline and the broad shoulders he had under the dark suit. Immediately making a beeline to the counter, he shook himself out of his ogling and sat and gave a wave to the waitress Anna, signalling his usual order. While the whole staff knew him well as if he lived there, Anna was the only one who made sure there was a slice of key lime left at the end of the day, just in case he ordered it. 

“Katsuki, I haven’t seen you in two days. Feels like you’re a runaway when you don’t come around,” Anna said, setting down the plate with a smirk. She handed him a fork, sitting a mug of hot water and saucer of tea bags down after.

Yuuri smiled, accepting the fork. “I’ve been a bit busy. My current client has a list of needs and I’ve been trying to make sure I hit them all.”

Anna only shook her head. “You work too hard. You should be eating meals at home with a boyfriend or girlfriend, not haunting this old rink four days a week.”

Yuuri could only shake his head, already lost to the first bite of his pie. The waitress threw her hands in the air, feigning irritation before walking away to top off coffee cups and clear plates away. It happened when Anna came back around a few moments later. They made small talk as he savored his treat and she went to playfully snatch the plate of nearly eaten pie.

Despite knowing it was in jest, his knee-jerk reaction was to protect the plate. Grabbing it, he pulled it away and held it above his head and nearly lost his balance. Body off kilter, he found himself leaning back and losing control over the plate and it only took a moment for him to realize that someone had kept him from falling to the ground. And that his pie was effectively smashed on the front of the chest that belonged to the hands that held him up. 

“Oh my god my pie!”

“Yuuri!”

“Oh dear.”

Pulling back, Yuuri righted himself on his stool and took in the scene before him. Anna staring from behind the counter, mouth wide open. He held an empty ceramic plate, showing signs of smeared cream and crumbs. And one stranger in what looked to be a designer suit with ruined key lime pie smeared across the fine fabric, their face a mask of carefully placed neutral expression. Blue eyes sat under a raised brow, the single point of emotion.

“I-I am so, so sorry!!”

Tossing the plate on the counter, Yuuri instinctively grabbed for a wad of napkins and reached out to try and clean the pie from the suit but was blocked by a pair of pale hands.

“No, that is alright. I will have this dry cleaned in the morning, I suppose,” said the stranger, his accent apparent with each turn of vowel and bite of consonant. Russian? Regardless, he sounded less than amused.

A chunk of crust fell to the ground, narrowly missing his shoes, landing with a wet splat. 

Dread built in Yuuri’s stomach, between the look on the man’s face and the situation that bordered on mortifying and called for his immediate moving out of town with the clothes on his back.

“I really am sorry! Let me pay for the dry cleaning! Do you have a card?” Yuuri stood, plucking the larger, intact pieces of pie still on the man’s chest and putting them on the abandoned plate. 

“No, no. It’s fine. Please.” The man pushed his ash blond bangs from his face, looking down at Yuuri as he fidgeted. “Don’t trouble yourself. I was just on my way out and I have other suits.”

The man sidestepped over to the register where Anna ran over to take his payment. He was gone in a matter of moments and the waitress slid back over, leaning on the counter to look down at the mess Yuuri had created. 

“I want double the tip tonight.”

Yuuri could only sigh, smacking himself in the face at his most embarrassing moment to date. 

There was a bit of key lime on his cheek as his phone chimed with notification for a new email.

 

_ Mr Katsuki, _

_ I’ve come to town to check the progress of the home search. This most recent find seems promising. When shall we meet? _

_ VN _

 

* * *

 

 

There was a commercial that Katsuki Realtors played occasionally. Yuuri can’t believe he let his parents talk him into doing it. Even more incredulous is the fact that Yuuri comes off as suave and poised, uber professional and _attractive as fuck_ as his photographer friend Phichit puts it. He plays what is supposed to be himself; a slick realtor, handsome enough to talk anyone into signing on the dotted line, finding the home of the family’s dreams. He even says their tagline: _Katsuki Realtors, let us welcome you home!_

He really does like his job. He likes the challenge, he likes knowing about housing types and the elements of design and knowing what people like and dislike. What Yuuri doesn’t like is how people view him. They all see him as that fancy man on the screen and on the yard signs and billboards but in reality, he is a klutz who gains weight way too easily if left unchecked, and loves dogs and would happily die in a puppy stampede if he could. It doesn’t make him less competent as a house seller, being a klutz. No. The only way that could affect his job is if he destroyed his relationship with his current customer. 

Maybe by pelting them with key lime pie. 

Because that would happen to him, with the luck he had at times.

For now, he’s only running three minutes late to his meeting with VN. His first meeting with the man and he was held up by two grannies talking about bingo while trying to pay for his gas. Pulling into the drive, he can see there is a sleek black car in the drive, looking empty. The house was locked, so it left VN to be roaming the yard somewhere or checking out the pool filters, possibly looking to see if they were up to his particular standards. 

Slamming is own car door shut, he’s barely taken six steps from the vehicle before he’s bowled over by a large, furry mass of curls and drool. Immediately, his hands come up to dig into the fur and pull back a little to take him his assailant. A large standard poodle stood on top of him, looking delighted at his presence and attempting to give him another round of licks on every inch of exposed skin.

“Makkachin! Down! That isn’t how we greet people!”

The dog gave a whine but complied with the called demand, backing off Yuuri and sitting on the grass next to him. She continued to pant, excited at his presence. Standing and brushing off his own pants and jacket, Yuuri could hear a man admonishing the dog and apologizing to him.

“I’m sorry, Makka loves new friends and she is used to your voice by now.”

Whipping his head around, Yuuri saw the man better; ash blond hair, a bespoke navy suit with a pale pink tie, blue eyes. Diner man. He could almost say it was simultaneous the way both of them realized who the other was.

“Oh, I thought she said your name was Katsuki, but I hadn’t been sure. Good to officially meet you, Mr Katsuki. I am Viktor Nikiforov.” He held out a hand for shaking, a placid smile in place.

“Oh my god I threw pie at you! You’re VN! I’m so sorry!” Despite the fresh wave of panic he had, Yuuri struck his hand out to meet Viktor’s, shaking it firmly.

Viktor only continued his smile. “It really is no trouble. We can call it even since Makkachin body slammed you into the grass, yes?” He reached out to pick a stray clump of grass of Yuuri’s shoulder. “Formal introductions. I am Viktor Nikiforov, a former politician of Saint Petersburg and in the market for a new house. Now. Show me this home. I am impressed with the yard as Makkachin has already taken a shine to it.”

 

The tour took two hours; Viktor had many questions, including details on carpet, paint colors, and furniture shopping, to name a few. Yuuri immediately tells him of Designs by Katsuki and the average turnaround time he’s seen Mari work. Viktor Nikiforov doesn’t take notes. He doesn’t pull out a file folder of print outs and tips for home buyers like many of his clients. Instead, he is silent unless he is asking questions. He keeps his hands clasped behind his back or rests an elbow in one hand and taps a finger on his lips in thought. Makkachin follows behind them, very well behaved. She sniffs at corners and baseboards, licks an errant spot on a wall, but otherwise is a silent and dutiful companion to the Russian man. 

Of course, Yuuri didn’t stare when he found himself behind Viktor as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. It would have been rude to drool over the pert ass flexing in front of him.

At the end of the tour, Viktor takes the file Yuuri has fetched from his car, a report of all details on the house, including suggestions for pricing and services regarding his aesthetic alterations. Designs by Katsuki beats them all out of the water when it comes to bang for the buck, he’s proud to admit. The blond barely looks at the papers before turning an eye on Yuuri, almost as if sizing him up.

“I’d like to discuss these details more. Would you be open to talking over dinner?”

 

* * *

 

 

This is how Yuuri expects the night to go: dinner at somewhere casual where they can maybe order a drink each and an appetizer and discuss specs and closing costs. He expects to then walk his client to his car and tell him to think about it for a day or so or maybe even see him the next day to sign paperwork.

He does not expect: Viktor to suggest the fanciest restaurant in town. He does not expect the man to offer to pick him up at seven in his expensive rental car and certainly doesn’t expect him to select what might just be the most expensive wine on the list for their meal. He doesn’t expect the casual turn of conversation and for his folder to go nearly ignored. 

He only just realizes that Viktor has laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. So small, barely noticeable. But they’re charming.

Completely true to character, Yuuri is nervous because it feels more like a date than closing the deal on a home. Only his professional integrity and knowledge of his tendencies to act like his father keep him from drowning himself in the bottle of $400 wine and other spirits. He has a small buzz but he is coherent and completely aware of the look on Viktor Nikiforov’s face.

Before, at the diner and even during the tour, it was smooth. Neutral, calm. Now, the man’s face was warmer, hotter. If he dared think it, Yuuri would even say that it was almost flirty with a lustful gaze. The slightly heavier accent on his lips told him that he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the wine. 

Yuuri has been in many, many homes. He has seen the way some live while in between homes, seen them staying with family or friends. A few times, his clients have been living out of hotel rooms while searching. So when Viktor invites him to his hotel room for coffee and to actually look through the folder, he is actually a little surprised at the extravagance of the room. He hadn’t even realized there was a room like this in town. He’s also surprised by the lips on his and the hands that lightly grip his waist.

Unsurprisingly, his body is eager to react because somehow, kissing VN, Viktor Nikiforov, is like coming home. Slipping his hands on the broad shoulders presented to him before burying one in the soft locks of ashy grey-blond, he lets his lips part and he won't regret it right now. Not when it feels so right. 

Viktor is as eager as he is. Whatever is reasoning is, lust or desperation or a game, in this moment, Yuuri doesn’t care. It’s been a long two months with VN and an even longer year with lovers few and far between, his job taking more of his time than anything else. So much that he’s barely at his own house. That sensation of satisfaction when coming home, he’s more than eager to reach for it and it feels perfect in the tongue and lips and line of his body. 

Yuuri hadn’t realized they’d back into the common area, his thighs meeting the arm of the flowery sofa, not until he nearly toppled back. Viktor barely manages to catch him, hand cradling his head before lowering him down a little more gently than his fall would have sent him. 

“It’s very surprising. A man like you is so clumsy. It’s very cute,” Viktor drawls, hands dragging down Yuuri’s chest, casually flicking at the buttons of his shirt. One by one they open.

“I’m full of surprises,” Yuuri breathes out, unable to fully use the sarcasm he wants. Not when the gorgeous man above him his leaning down to lick at a nipple and tease the other with his fingers. 

Viktor smirks, but pauses. “I very much want to see these surprises. But I do want you to know I plan on signing on the house. You don’t have to sleep with me to get me to sign…”

“Please,” Yuuri snorted. “When I ruined your suit in pie I was half mortified and half turned on at the sight of you.” He wiggled in his spot on the couch. “Now, if you can get me out of these clothes, we can see how many surprises I can show you later.” 

Reaching down, he palmed the bulge in his pants, hissing at the feeling and immensely enjoying the reaction Viktor was having. Eyes blown wide, licking his lips, cheeks flushed. He was arousal with legs and Yuuri was aching to take whatever he would give him.

 

There was something to be said about hotel rooms. It felt freeing to fuck in them. He’d been bent in half on the couch, Viktor slammed home in him over and over until Yuuri came on his own chest. Yuuri sucked the man’s impressive member, showcasing his college-borne skill of deep-throating while kneeling at his feet at the foot of the bed and allowed him to fuck his face until the roots of his hair ached and his voice was raspy. 

He was teased mercilessly, made to beg for his release over and over, taken to the precipice only to be dragged away. His orgasm the most intense as he was railed into from behind. Close to dawn, he found the Russian rubbing his ass against Yuuri’s half hard dick and took the opportunity to wake the man and suggest one more round.

Yuuri was more than happy to supply the friction while Viktor happily laid in the sheets, moaning like it was his sole job and he was a professional.

Shower sex was, contrary to popular belief, not all that sexy. They settled for hands on one another, the swipes of thumbs on sensitive heads, and tantalizing fingertips dragging out the shivers that came with the tingling moments before. Viktor happily gobbled up their combined releases before sucking a deep red mark on Yuuri’s collarbone. 

Viktor signed the paperwork hours later, coming by the Katsuki Realtors office. He ran into Yuuri’s mother, whom he charmed immediately. He got him in contact with Mari for interior work and let the man leave. His phone chimed minutes later with an email from the contact listed as VN.

 

 

_ Mr Katsuki, _

_ Thank you for showing me a wonderful house, I do look forward to turning it into a home soon.  _

_ I will be in contact regarding bonuses not stipulated in our contract. _

_ VN _

 

*/*\\*

 

Five weeks. It had been five weeks since any contact with Viktor. His emails, professional of course, had gone unanswered, and the newly bought house was still vacant. Mari’s team had of course been working in it to repaint and lay down carpet among other things, but she said she hadn’t had contact in almost a month herself.

He was beginning to wonder if their evening and morning after had crossed too many lines when he got a call from his sister one Sunday afternoon. 

“Go over to the Nikiforov place. I need you to tell me if he’ll like it. We finished last night.”

“Why am I a judge of this?”

“Because you know his preferences at this point. Let me know how it goes.”

 

* * *

 

Everything did look nice. The walls downstairs had been given some warmth, the furniture classic yet with a touch of modern. The bedrooms, one by one, had been given carpet and it looked as though some personal effects had been added. The biggest additions to the master bedroom; a rather large four-poster bed and a single Russian man sitting on the corner of the bed, waiting patiently.

“Sorry I’ve been gone so long. Had to wrap up some business back home.”

Yuuri blinked. “Business?”

“I had to finish my last days in office before moving here.” Viktor gave a small smirk. “I couldn’t just abandon my post, no matter how nice my new home was or how cute my realtor is.”

He couldn’t help but to frown. “Did you just call me cute?”

“I did. And I have a proposition for you. I’m looking for a business to cultivate or help and I was hoping you could help me. You’ve already helped me several times over, after all.”

“What kind of proposition? I’m just a realtor.” Yuuri couldn’t help it, but he seemed to realize his body was naturally gravitating towards Viktor. Likewise, Viktor had gotten up from his seat to take several steps forward to meet him in the middle.

“Mm, I was thinking of actually investing in realty. Perhaps house flipping or the like. I need a strong business partner who knows the area and about houses. I have the money aspect, I just need the knowledge.”

Yuuri couldn’t help the noise that came from his lips. It was derisive, unimpressed with the situation. “I could, possibly.”

“And,” Viktor started, “I did also have a message for you…Especially these last week weeks, I realized that home wasn’t Saint Petersburg. Not like it used to be. Over the months, the weeks, I’ve got to seek home elsewhere. Yuuri Katsuki, you’re the first person I’ve felt like coming home to. Could we give  _ us _ a try?”

“Only if you promise to not ignore my messages like you just did for almost six weeks.” He gave a playful shove to the Russian man, laughing when his own wrists were grabbed and the two of them went tumbling on the bed. 

Viktor ran his thumb along Yuuri’s jawline, sending a blush right to his face. “Never.”

“Then on behalf of Katsuki Realtors, welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading, don't forget a little kudos and maybe a comment? Then check out my other YoI fics! And of course, thanks to the Okaeri mod team and those who supported the zine!  
> You can find me on tumblr (still, lol) as velvetcovered-brick so stop by and chat if you'd like.
> 
> And its that time of year again, come find me at Anime Midwest in Chicago July 5-7, 2019! 
> 
> itakethewords


End file.
